


I Have Died Every Day Waiting For You

by kg1507



Category: Reign (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-02-16
Updated: 2014-03-12
Packaged: 2018-01-12 17:39:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,667
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1193865
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kg1507/pseuds/kg1507
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mary/Bash, takes place after 1x11: Bash was not so easily frightened, but thoughts of his half-brother haunted him day and night, never giving him rest. He did not want to fight over Mary like two dogs over a bone - he wanted her to choose for herself, to have at least this one choice all her own. He was just terrified her choice would not be him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

It had been almost two hours, and the castle wasn't any closer to settling down. All of the servants were awake and out of bed, gathered in small circles by candlelight to discuss the news and share gossip, whether it be true or not; the queen came to murder Queen Mary in her bath, a sword wielded in both hands. No, no, it was a strip of cloth she had used to strangle the poor lady. No, she had tried to force poison down her throat before the guards burst in. No, Sebastian had been the first to enter, and he had torn Catherine off of Mary himself. No one knew quite all the details, and the only two who could answer their questions were the subjects of the evening themselves - but no one was willing to trouble the young queen and everyone was too terrified of Catherine to even consider what she might have to say. All they could do was speculate, and wonder what it was that had really happened.

Bash knew the truth; Catherine was a vile, cold-hearted snake of a woman and she had tried to kill his future wife. And for that, he would personally make sure she paid with her head.

He barked orders to clear Mary's door of servants, who had been chittering about the lock hoping for a glimpse of the Scottish queen at this late hour. As they dissipated, shrinking from his glare, Bash nodded for the guards to take their leave and stand watch at the entrances to her hall. He stared despairingly at the solid wood in front of him, his hand raised in hesitation. He sighed deeply, gathering himself, wondering not for the first time when these terrible things would end - and knowing it was just the beginning.

He knocked softly, the sound echoing down the silent hallway. "Mary?" When he got no response, he knocked again a bit louder. "Mary, it's Bash. May I come in?"

"Bash?" A teary voice replied, and his heart fell like a stone. "Yes, please, come in."

He closed the door quickly behind him, locking it from the inside. She was huddled in a ball on her bed and hunched over, blankets strewn about in disarray. Her eyes were wide and wild, and he could see her trembling even from a distance. He took a tentative step forward, not wanting to alarm her, but his body yearning to hold her in his arms. It pained him to see her like this. She looked so small, so fragile, so far from the bold and fearless girl he had come to know and admire. This sad creature was not his Mary, and he damned Catherine to hell for what she had done.

"I've posted guards outside your door, and several more around Catherine's. No one is going to come in or out unless you or I say so." He paused, but she did not reply - only looked down at her hands and twisted them nervously, breathing quick, ragged breaths.

Bash cautiously took another step. "Mary, I swear, she's going to die for this. We have witnesses, evidence - she can't slither her way out of this one." Quiet doubt filled the air, but neither of them were willing to speak the truth - Queen Catherine had managed to stay alive this long; she might have another trick up her sleeve, another card she had yet to play.

He wouldn't think about that possibility now. Not when Mary so desperately needed to hope in something, for justice to prevail.

He sighed softly. "I'm so..." What, sorry? What good would that do for her? Sorry wouldn't make her life any easier, nor the choices they've vowed to make, and it wouldn't give her all the things she deserved. She deserved so much more than this.

He hung his head and turned to go. "I'll leave you be."

"No!" Mary exclaimed, shoving her blankets aside and rushing to him. Her feet were light and noiseless on the cold floor, her fingers like ice as they gripped his arms tightly. Her eyes shone with tears and desperation.

"Please, don't. I don't trust the guards. I don't trust the servants. I don't trust anyone in this bloody castle anymore except for those who came with me to live under it." She gasped for air and Bash cupped her face gently, his thumbs brushing a soothing line down her cheeks. She grasped his forearms with her tiny fingers and met his eyes.

"Stay with me tonight. I don't think I can manage to be alone right now. I trust  _you_." She hiccuped, and her voice dropped. "Please, Bash, say you'll stay."

She looked at him so pleadingly, eyes filled to the brim with tears that could overflow at any moment, and her face so stricken that it would surely crumple at his denial - and how could he deny her anything? Here he was, ready to marry her and take the throne from his half-brother, a throne he did not want, but if Mary asked him of it he would make it so. He would move the mountains for her, if that was what she wished.

Bash nodded, giving her a smile to reassure her. "Of course I'll stay." He patted the long-sword at his waist. "No one will get past me, I swear."

Mary closed her eyes with relief and exhaled, loosening her iron grip on him. She melted into his chest, embracing him as her arms circled around his back and came to rest on his shoulder blades. "Thank you." She breathed, and Bash had to fight to keep still as the scent of her hair rose up to meet him. He let his chin rest on the crown of her head, touching a tendril between two fingers.

"Come," He said. "You've made a mess out of your bedsheets - what will the maids say if they see this rat's nest?"

Mary smiled, but he could tell she was still troubled and nervous, although she let him lead her back to the bed. They picked up the fallen blankets and re-made the bed together, one of them on each side. Bash tried not to think about the bed they might share together once they were married; it was too tempting to lose himself in these daydreams, and yet he could think of nothing else as they lifted the sheets by the corners and thrust them into the air, the falling fabric revealing inch by inch of Mary's face, softly illuminated by the candles placed on her table.

She climbed into bed on all fours, the way a child might, and it made him grin like a little boy. She adjusted her pillows and fluffed them, and Bash took a handful of the blankets and pulled them towards her, covering her body as gently as if she were made of glass. Mary laid down, keeping her eyes on him as he drew the covers to her chest, letting them fall before he dared go any higher. After a split second of hesitation, he leaned over her body and began to tuck the covers around her legs and along her waist, eliciting a giggle that made his heart skip a beat.

"Does that tickle?" Bash jested with a smile.

Mary nodded. "A little, yes." Her face suddenly grew sad as she settled deeper into the bed. "No one has done that for me since I was a little girl." She said.

Bash pushed her blankets under her feet in a neat little ball. "Your mother?"

"No," Mary replied, her voice full of grief. "The maids." She twisted a strand of hair, gazing at nothing in particular, lost in memory.

Bash let one hand rest on her shoulder, his thumb stroking gently. "I would have liked to have seen you as a child, I think."

"I'm told I was very precocious." Mary admitted.

"Was? Are you not still?" Bash joked. They shared a laugh and Mary reached out to take his hand. Her face grew melancholy after a moment and the reminder of the night's events plagued them both once more.

The silence pierced the air and Bash suddenly felt too warm. He cleared his throat. "Mary, are you sure you want me here? I mean, will my presence... will you be able to..." He desperately searched for a more civil way to say what was on his mind: Would it be uncomfortable for her that he would be in her room all night, standing guard and watching her as she slept?

Mary shook her head quickly. "No, no - Bash, I promise you, I'll feel much safer if-" She stopped, her face coloring slightly. "Please, I want you to stay."

Bash smiled and nodded, letting his eyes drop to their hands. "Alright. If you're sure." Reluctantly, he rose from her side and let her fingers fall from his own. He stared down at her for a moment too long, but neither of them could tear their gaze away. Finally, Bash reached for his courage and bent down, leaving a lingering kiss on her forehead. He could not see it, but Mary's eyes closed at his touch.

"Sleep, Mary." He whispered as he drew back. "I promise you'll come to no harm."

"I know." She whispered back.

He pulled up a chair at the foot of her bed, his back facing her, and sat down. He wrapped his fingers around the hilt of his sword, testing the weight if he had to draw it quickly, and made himself vigilant. He could hear Mary shifting behind him and the sound of her body against the sheets was enough to peak his nerves.

It would be a long night.


	2. Chapter 2

Bash wasn't sure how long it was before Mary stopped tossing and turning, but eventually her restlessness ceased and she was still. He was tempted to turn from his chair several times to look at her, but forced himself to remain where he was.

He tried to occupy himself with considering what steps to take next. He knew his options were limited - he had no say in the final word sealing Catherine's fate. All he could do was present the evidence of Catherine's murder attempt, recount what he had seen when he'd walked into Mary's room, and hope it would be enough to condemn her to the chopping block. He didn't see how she could back her way out of it. He only hoped his father would make the right choice.

 _The right choice._ Bash thought to himself dejectedly.  _But what is the right choice for Mary? Is it me, or is it Francis?_

In his wildest dreams, he had never imagined that he and Mary would be betrothed. She had always wanted Francis, had always belonged to him.

 _No._ He thought  _Mary belongs to no one._ She had made that clear the moment she brought forth the plan to legitimize Bash and wed him instead. Her body belonged to no one - but her heart... who did her heart truly lie with?

Bash was not so easily frightened, but thoughts of his half-brother haunted him day and night, never giving him rest. His memory was like a dark cloud hovering over the horizon, always watching, always reminding him of what was coming.

Francis would return to court, that much was fact. He was wounded by Bash and Mary's betrayal, no doubt planning to come back with a vengeance and fight for her heart and fight him. But Bash did not want to fight over Mary like two dogs over a bone - he wanted Mary to choose for herself, to have at least this one choice all her own. She deserved that.

He was just terrified her choice would not be him.

He had been as careful as he could, giving her every chance to turn back and take Francis to the throne, prophesy or not. He was trying to do the right thing by her, unwilling to have her trapped in a marriage she did not truly want, and truth be told, he was trying to protect his own heart as well. But each time she had denied or had offered him his own freedom instead of the throne, giving him equal chance to put their betrothal to an end. She had been so worried about taking something from him, taking away his freedom, but Bash sometimes worried if she was second-guessing herself, not wanting to hurt him with her rejection. It was a legitimate fear, as she had only suggested their marriage in order to save Francis's life, which brought forth his greatest fear born from the moment he had kissed her by the riverside: If she chose Bash and went through with the marriage, would she ever love him the way he loved her? Or would she forever long for Francis's touch, and Bash forever cursed to live with the knowledge that her heart did not yearn for him? He might be lawfully wedded to Mary, but words only mattered if they held meaning and truth. This above all else was what drove knives into his heart, piercing all the way down to his very soul.

But then... There had been moments where it seemed this was not his fate. They had shared tender moments together, several of which had been by her initiation. And just this evening she had given him the greatest hope he could ask for, one he grasped at with both hands.  _"My heart is open."_  It was the closest thing yet to an affirmation that his feelings were not unrequited. But was it enough?

Bash felt his head turn before he realized what he was doing, and his heart melted at Mary's sleeping figure behind him, her hair fanned out against the pillows in a thick black wave. Her body rose and fell with the steady breathing of sleep, and he was glad of it. God knew how she needed rest.

He sighed, turning away and closing his eyes in submission. He had never known love like this, had never realized how intensely it could burn and blaze like the fiercest of flames. But for how brightly it shone, it's uncertainty was equally torrential. How cruel that the very thing that had given him such life could just as easily destroy him.

How very cruel indeed.

* * *

 

Several hours passed, and Bash was awoken from a half-doze by the sound of soft sobbing. The fuzziness of sleep left him as quickly as an arrow's flight and he leaped from his chair, sword at the ready, damning himself for growing drowsy. He wheeled around the room, searching for the danger with frantic eyes, but found no one. He then looked to Mary and saw her face twisted with fear and her legs thrashing about.

Bash placed the sword across the seat of the chair and rushed to her bedside, his hands everywhere at once - her shoulders, her cheeks, her forehead, anywhere he could reach.

"Mary, wake up. Mary," He was careful not to let his voice rise, knowing it would only upset her more. "It's just a nightmare. Mary, Mary, it's alright. Wake up. I'm here."

She awoke suddenly, her eyes searching the room in a panic until they landed on Bash. Her chest heaved with sobs, and she reached for him, touching his face as if to make sure he was real. "Bash." She breathed. Her hand dropped to the bed as she cried, the night taking it's toll on her at last.

Bash immediately threw back the covers, hot with sweat, and pulled her into his arms. She crawled into him, her arms wrapping around his neck as her legs hung over his lap and her small feet dangled over the edge of the bed. He could feel her flushed skin through his clothing, and her body shook as the sheen of sweat became exposed to cool air. All Bash could do was hold her, whispering soft reassurances in her ear as she clung to him like a child, her breath hot on his neck.

Minutes passed and eventually her sobs grew softer and her breathing steadied, although her grip did not lessen; she held onto him as if her life depended on it. Bash was painfully aware of the way her soaked nightgown clung to every curve and contour of her body, and how she had pressed herself flush against him. He chastised himself for thinking of her in this manner when she was so distraught, but it was difficult to think of much else.

After a while, he felt Mary's chest rise and fall with a deep sigh, her hands floating down to rest on his breastbone, toying with a clasp on his tunic.

"I have never felt so old." She admitted. Her voice was soft. "I feel as if I have aged thirty years."

"Well, for an old woman, you have managed to stay immeasurably stunning." Bash replied easily.

Mary choked out a wet laugh and wiped her cheek with the back of her hand, giving him an exasperated look. "Honestly, Bash, do you  _ever_ stop?"

He tipped her chin up, his forefinger and thumb lightly grazing her soft skin. "Only if you want me to." He said lowly.

There was a beat of silence, and he could feel her shiver beneath his touch. Her eyes met his, two bottomless pools that always gave him the distinct feeling that he was drowning. She slowly shook her head.

"I don't..." Her whisper was barely audible, but clear and loud as a bell to Bash's ears. He touched his forehead to hers, his heart pounding, and kissed her lightly, a feather-like brush that was more of a question than an answer. When he pulled back, she brought her hand to his face, guiding him back to her, lips parted in breathless anticipation. She gripped his shoulder with her other hand to steady herself and slowly twisted around until she was straddling his waist. Bash's hands floated down to her hips, as if on autopilot. His brain felt muddy, his ears ringing.

"What are you-" He shuddered when she shifted her position, pulling him closer.

She didn't reply. She started unbuttoning his shirt, slowly and carefully, and Bash felt his heartbeat skip. Was he still asleep? Had he fallen into another one of his dreams? It had to be. It was the only explanation. And yet in dreams, her touch had never felt this real before...

She met his eyes, and he was shocked to see how calm she was when minutes before she had been near hysterical. Her fingers were ice-cold as they traced his jaw, and he caught them in his hand - not to stop her, but to give her warmth.

"We don't have to do anything." He said, the words painful in his throat. "I won't ask you for anything."

Mary's face crumpled for a brief moment and she looked at him with such sadness that Bash was sure he had insulted her somehow. But she smiled and Bash swore he could see something else in her face, something very tender.

Her voice was soft but sure. "You never have." She brought his hands to her waist, underneath her nightgown, and slid his hands up her bare skin. His nerves were on fire and his breath caught in his throat when he felt her heartbeat pounding erratically beneath her breast. Mary's eyes fell shut at his touch.

"Mary..." Bash's voice quivered.

She moved his fingers those last few tortuous inches north to places he had only dared dream of, and when he touched her, she moaned softly and nodded her head, and there was no more need for words.

He bunched the fabric in his fists and lifted the gown off her shoulders, his eyes sweeping over her body hungrily. He had barely had time to register her beauty as he'd fished her out of her bath only hours before, too preoccupied with the fact that she had almost been poisoned and drowned. But now he could look, and look he did.

Her skin was pale and flawless as white silk, save for the two dark circles that peaked and pebbled in her anticipation. Her neck dipped deliciously into the hollow of her throat, and the curve of her hips was exquisite. Everything about her was beautiful, and he wanted to make sure she knew.

He could feel her fingers at his buttons, her breaths short as she traveled down his chest. He let her, taking the time to memorize every inch of her previously forbidden body, desperate to lock it away where no one could take it from him. They could take everything else, but they could not take this moment. It was his, and hers, and theirs, and if he should lose her to another then at least he could not lose their time together, however short and blissful it had been to him.

When his shirt was free, he tossed it aside and bent down, taking her in his mouth and running his teeth over her peak. Her head fell back as she gasped, thrusting herself closer and gripping his bare shoulders tightly. Bash paid each breast equal attention, leaving her skin red where he had marked her, and then lifted her in his arms as he quickly laid her down on the bed, crawling atop her in the span of just seconds.

He kissed her lips soundly, as if he might float up into the clouds if he was not anchored to her skin. She responded in kind; there was a fervor to their kiss that was much more animal than in the past, and he wondered if she felt the same urgency as he did - that they may not be permitted a forever the way others could be, that they must take advantage of what little time kings and queens could grasp.

He withdrew from her embrace and went to unbuckle his breeches only to find that the were already halfway down his waist. He hadn't even felt her nimble fingers there. So he shucked them off as well and her eyes widened as his full nakedness was revealed. He felt slightly self-conscious as she took in the sight of him, and he hesitantly reached for her undergarments, sliding them down endless legs until there was nothing left but him and her.

Bash's mouth went dry as he looked at her beneath him, reeling from the fact that this was happening, desperate to keep it from ending. He bent overtop of her, his forearms supporting himself on either side of the space beside her head, and kissed her sweetly.

"Bash... Please." Mary urged, dragging his hips forward.

He complied, slowly easing himself into her with baited breath, mesmerized by her face as it contorted into a look of pure pleasure. He was lost to her, wholly and completely.

He began to move, letting all thoughts of Catherine and Francis and the world beyond these four walls fade to nothing. He would let himself be selfish tonight, if only for one night. For all he knew, it could be the only one they have.

* * *

A/N: I'm thrilled to see that a lot of you guys are following this fic and leaving me such nice reviews. I honestly don't know how long this one will be, although I'm thinking maybe 5 chapters. It might be 4. I just don't know yet. But thank you all for reading!


	3. Chapter 3

The sun had barely begun to make its ascent over the dark horizon, the first sounds of songbirds heralding in the new day. Mary had always been an early riser, and she loved this part of the day the most. Everything was quiet and peaceful, and for that short hour before the maids began to carry out chores and her handmaidens brought in her freshly pressed wardrobe to dress her in, before anyone called her "My lady" or "My Queen," she was just "Mary."

Bash was still asleep, one long arm loosely draped around her bare waist as he faced her in slumber. She had slept without incident after they had collapsed in each others' arms, her dreams filled with sweet touches and tender words from their night together. He had been so gentle, treating her with great care. He was so different from Francis in his lovemaking - with Francis, it had been lust and walls tumbling down in great landslides, and it had been good for her first time, but Bash had given her something else in addition to fiery passion and wanton need - he had given her intimacy. And it had been... exhilarating.

Mary traced light fingers over his features, feathery touches that lazily explored all the lines and curves she now felt she knew by heart. His hair was sticking up in several places where she had grasped, pulled, and guided him to her. He looked almost boyish and she realized she had never seen him so mussed up. It gave her a thrill in the pit of her stomach to know it was her doing.

A thrill that told her she was finally ready to move on, and let herself love again.

The birdsongs grew louder and as much as Mary was enjoying herself, she wanted Bash to be awake before the servants were up and about - even though it meant telling him what she was about to tell him.

She leaned in and kissed his forehead, whispering his name against his skin.

He mumbled something incoherent, and she grinned. "Bash, wake up." She brushed his lips with her own, between words. "Wake. Up."

"I'd rather not, if it's all the same to you." Bash said groggily. "Dream's not over yet." He moaned softly. "Such a good dream..."

Mary kissed him again, a bit deeper. "It was no dream."

His eyes finally opened, and for a split second he looked lost, pushing himself up with one arm and glancing around the room in confusion. When he looked at her again, he finally allowed himself a grin. "Well. First time _that's_  happened." He settled back into the pillows and Mary allowed him to pull her close, her fingers splaying across his chest.

"So, last night..." Bash started, cautiously. "Was it..."

"It was wonderful, Bash." Mary affirmed. She traced small circles on his skin. " _You_ were wonderful."

Bash smiled and looked down at her fingers, his grin contagious as her own widened until her face was sore. She giggled and buried her face into the bed, feeling herself grow warm with the redness she knew was covering her cheeks. His hand caressed her shoulder and he quieted.

"Do you regret it, though? Honestly." He asked, dreading the answer.

Mary looked up at him, meeting his eyes with resolution. "No." She replied. "I don't." As his face broke out in relief, she continued quickly. "But Bash, I do need to tell you something, and it might change things, but I need you to know." She breathed deeply. "I'm not..." She paused, stuttering. "I've... known a man, before..."

Bash stopped her. "I know." He said quietly.

Mary's words disappeared in her mouth, leaving it dry and breathless. "You... You knew?"

"Francis told me."

"He  _what?_ " Mary was shocked. "You  _knew?_ "

"Yes, and Mary, I don't care." Bash's voice was firm.

"But, I've  _lost_  my  _virtue_." Mary said, emphasizing her words. "I'm ruined. I-"

Bash shook his head and cut her off. "Mary, listen to me. I am not those men who sit on elevated chairs and pass judgment on every woman who has known a man, even if it  _is_ my brother." He touched her cheek gently. "And you are not ruined. Not to me."

Mary smiled and leaned forward, kissing him for a long moment. "Thank you. You don't know how relieved I am to hear you say that."

Bash sighed contentedly, letting himself bask in the reality that was suddenly his. How wonderful it felt, to wake up with her by his side. If he could do this every day for the rest of his life, he would be the happiest man in France for sure.

The room was growing steadily brighter with the rising sun, and Mary groaned. "I don't want to leave this bed."

"Believe me, the feeling is mutual." Bash said, squeezing her hand. "But... I suppose... if you'd let me, maybe I could visit you again?" He grinned wickedly. "Tonight?"

Mary laughed, hitting him over the head with a pillow. "My, we're eager, aren't we?"

Bash chuckled, but did not offer any denial. He kissed her quickly and swung his legs over the edge of the bed, picking up his discarded clothing and yanking them on. Mary watched him with a saucy grin, her lower lip caught between her teeth as he dressed. It had been a long time since she had felt this giddy. There was a freedom she had never truly known until she'd met Bash, a freedom she didn't know existed. But he brought it out in her, among so many other things she didn't know she'd been capable of feeling, and she reveled in it.

Once he was fully clothed, he allowed her to help him tidy his hair, and she used a small washbin to dampen his locks and smooth them back into place. His eyes closed at her touch, and when she was finished, he tenderly kissed each fingertip.

Mary cupped his face. "Bash... thank you for staying last night."

He smiled, wrapping his hands around her waist. "Thank you for letting me in." Mary knew his words held deeper meaning.

He pulled her towards him and gave one last, lingering kiss that seemed to make the room spin all around them, leaving them dizzy. As he turned to leave, he noted the look of pure content on her face and the way she steadied herself, and he closed the door reluctantly but smiling.

He made his way back to his chambers, unable to keep the widening grin off his face. Last night he had been filled with so much doubt and fear, but the sunrise had brought hope to quell the beasts in his mind, setting them afire in a glorious blaze. Mary would not have given herself to him unless it had been her desire. She had made the first move. She had wanted him in her bed. It had been  _his_ name on her lips as she'd reached her highest pleasure. In just half a dozen hours, the entire world seemed brighter and fate in his favor. Not many bastards could wake up and say such a thing.

After he had changed into fresh clothes and cleaned himself up, Bash started towards the stables. He was full of energy and needed to get it out, lest someone grew suspicious of his heightened good mood. He wasn't stupid - he and Mary weren't yet married, and no one could know they had been intimate before the wedding. He would have to try to figure out a way to be around her without grinning like a fool in front of the entire court. Best to get whatever he could out of his system now before anyone else saw him today.

He stopped dead in his tracks as the sound of a trumpet came out of nowhere, playing a grand opening he knew only too well from years of experience. Someone royal had just arrived at court.

He tried not to jump to conclusions. It could be anyone. His father could be meeting with an ally. Distant Medici relatives could be coming to plead for Catherine's life.  _Anyone, anyone at all._ Bash thought wildly, his palms sweating.  _Just not him. Please, not him._ But he already knew, as his stomach knotted tightly and the air left his lungs. It was the heralding of the royal family.

Francis and his envoy of servants turned the corner and down the hall, and as the two brothers' eyes met, an icy chill went down Bash's spine. Francis looked ever the same, but there was a hardness in his eyes that had not been there before, and Bash felt a sudden urge to draw his sword. He felt like a mouse being cornered by the cat - and he could do nothing except watch as all his dreams fell like shattered glass beneath Francis's heels as he ground them into dust.

Francis stopped before Bash and stared, letting the silence hang in the air. "Hello, brother." He said coldly. "I do hope you're feeling lucky, because they tell me that word from the Vatican is on its way as we speak." His mouth twisted into a sickening smile. "And then we shall see who will be bowing to whom."

* * *

 

A/N: Damn. So, The Consummation, huh? Just... damn. Nearly broke my Mash-shipping heart in two. But I aint giving up yet, and neither should you!

I realize a bunch of you were a little taken aback that I had Mary and Bash sex so soon in this fic, but you have to remember - this is after the flirty looks and grins, the first kiss, the misadventures in the woods, the jump from the cliff, running away together, the countless kisses, "you exhilarate me," "My heart is open," "I have made the perfect choice," and basically everything that has happened in the show to prove that Bash is so much better for Mary than Francis. So, just take all that into account ;)

I sort of have an idea where this is going and it might turn out longer than I thought it would, which is saying something because this first started out as a oneshot smut piece. So I might end up doing seven or eight chapters, give or take. I don't know. I'm making this up as I go along. So thank you for reading and reviewing and I'll try to get the next chapter up when I can!


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